Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back for the long term, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.

Philemon 15-16

One thing mainline Christian churches don’t emphasize enough is the act of conversion. Though we frequently talk about the new creation, or the new life in Christ, we tend to live as traditional Christians —that is, we are born into the faith, grew up in the faith, and stay with the church that we are familiar with. We do not expect people to make drastic changes in their lives based on their faith. Since many of us were baptized as infants, we do not remember the dramatic moment when we are born again; nor did we all have a moment when we remember giving our lives to Christ, or receiving Christ in our hearts. Some even doubt the authenticity of such moments, and prefer the life of faith to be one of slow, gradual growth rather than a sharp turn or conscious rejection of our past life.

Personally, I don’t think our life in Christ follows any single pattern. For me, what’s important is not the formula or path but the results: our trust in God to guide us rather than wealth, power, or fear; our ability to shed hurtful behaviors or addictions; the ways we allow God to work through us; the message of Christ’s love that we share in word and deed.

But it’s helpful to have a touchstone, a way of reminding ourselves that we are not just the same old person we always were, that God has claimed us and we have heard God’s voice. Some start wearing a cross or get a tattoo; some change their name; some remember their spiritual birthday. And what’s just as important, their faith community nurture the change by recognizing spiritual gifts, or offering opportunities to practice those gifts, or reflect back to them the growth in faith they see, or identify potential new gifts and new leadership that they never recognized before.

But I have noticed that even when people are making positive changes, long-time companions might fail to reinforce those changes, but instead question the growth or even ignore the changes entirely. I remember a young man I mentored when I was at Apple Computer, who had some odd personal habits that I needed to identify for him to reject. He was thankful to be told, and shed the habits that were problematic for his career—and yet another manager would continue to joke about those old habits. Watch out when people don’t want to risk allowing new or younger church members to take on leadership roles, or are quick to remind folks about when the new deacon was new to the church and didn’t even know the Lord’s Prayer!

One thing I have always loved about the church is how we can see people as God’s children rather than however this broken world sees them. Jesus attracted traditional enemies like tax collectors and outcast women and Samaritans and church leaders and wealthy widows, and told them to be family together. And in Paul’s letter to Philemon, Paul speaks on behalf of Onesimus, who escaped from under Philemon, and asks Philemon to receive him back, and not as a slave, but as a fellow brother in Christ. Quite the change!

These changes in labels can represent changes in relationship, including reconciled relationships. I have been working on a sermon that I will give next month when several of us from the Synod will visit our sister presbytery in Korea, Jeonjoo Presbytery. I have always thought that if I had the opportunity to speak in Korea, I would feel the need to offer my remorse for the brutal oppression of Koreans by the Japanese during World War II, but also contrast those crimes with a sense of oneness, especially with current-day American-born Koreans and Japanese. So we can go from mortal enemies to siblings, especially siblings in Christ.

On a more local level, Westminster Presbyterian Church in Pasadena is using a different label for the other churches and organizations using their campus—ministry partners. This is a shift from “landlord-tenant” language, and I am very happy to see a church be so intentional in offering a more egalitarian, shared ministry relationship rather than that of “have” and “have nots.” One of the churches now worshiping at the campus is Altadena Community Church, the UCC church whose building burned down in the Eaton Fire. What is interesting is that this church was started as a break- off from Westminster 85 years ago, when a pastor was pushed out for being too liberal. I expect that the relationship between the two churches wasn’t all that friendly in past decades, but yesterday the leaders of Altadena Community were extolling the great welcome Westminster offered them at a time when the church was most vulnerable.

I believe that one of the great witnesses we Christians can offer a hurting world is reconciliation. May we find ways to practice reconciliation, and change our labels and our thinking, from landowner and renter, to partners . . . from oppressor to friend . . . from outcast to leader . . . from enemy to family. Thanks to the love of Christ, this is possible—so let us live into the change that God wills for us.

Blessings,

Wendy

“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

Luke 14:26 (NRSVUE)

When I get ready to write my weekly column, the first thing I do is check the lectionary for this coming Sunday and the preceding Sunday, to see if there’s a note that interests me, either because it addresses a current issue or it’s just been an intriguing verse to me. Luke 14:26 always rings out, evoking a “What?!” from this reader and, I suspect, many others.

The North American evangelical church has been clear about what they consider as God’s intention for all people—to be in a loving, life-long marriage to one unmarried person of the opposite sex, but the same faith tradition.

But the Bible mentions alternatives to this family structure. Jesus and the apostle Paul were not married, though Peter had a mother-in-law, so he must have been married (which is funny, since Peter is considered the first “pope”—and of course we think popes are supposed to be celibate!). The prophet Hosea was married to a woman considered to be a prostitute, and the mother of the judge Jephthah was a prostitute. Of course, there’s the polygamy, not necessarily recommended but it is certainly clear that several key Old Testament leaders had multiple wives and concubines.

And if all marriages and family relations are to be loving, what are we to make of this passage? Does Jesus really expect all his followers to hate their parents and family members? One would like to think that there’s nuance to this passage that we’re missing.

If we look at the Greek word for the verb “hate,” miseō, the word is clearly associated with the verbs to hate or detest, but there’s also a comparative aspect to it—so some translators might say “love less than” rather than “hate.” Or, like those who do not believe in a literal vow of poverty, we are not to treat family with hatred, but we should not cling to our family members—and, contrary to our healthy ministry advice of today, we are to put the ministry before family.

So, more likely, we do not take these words literally but as a challenge from Jesus, demanding total commitment. Remember, Jesus also tells potential disciples to hate life itself as well, and to be willing to bear the cross and give up all our possessions to follow Jesus.

What are we willing to let go of for the sake of Christ’s ministry?

As I consider this, I don’t know if I’m trying to find a way out of this almost mortal challenge, but it does occur to me that there are different questions Jesus is presenting. Is Jesus asking for sacrifice? But God says that God doesn’t want sacrifice. Is Jesus sifting out those who are risk averse, or calling for the risk-taking entrepreneurs among us? If so, many established churches have missed the mark! Perhaps the ultimate question is trust. How much do we trust God to provide for us if we give up everything? How much do we trust God to care for our family if we let go of trying to be their sole caregiver? And how much do we trust that even if we lose this mortal life in service to the Gospel, there is an eternal life of rest and reconciliation with God and the saints who have gone before us?

This question of trust was key for me as I prepared to go to seminary. When I started seminary, I spoke to my seminary cohort of what I let go of to start seminary—my future in Silicon Valley, my (imagined) sense of control over my life, and my image as a tough business person—and my professor prayed that I not have to lose any of it. What happened ended up being much more fulfilling than I could have ever hoped for.

A missionary was asked how she could be willing to go to some risky locations, and she said “All the time getting prepared to start the work feels like sacrifice; once you start the work, it’s all grace.” You just have to say yes.

I’m still not sure about Jesus’ rhetoric in demanding that we hate our families in order to join his mission. But I have learned that God is way more than trustworthy! I was hoping that I could trust God not to let me suffer in the ministry. Instead—at least for me—God gave me so much more than I could have imagined. All I had to say is yes. May it be so for you, as well.

Blessings,

Wendy

“Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, your servants, how you swore to them by your own self, saying to them, ‘I will multiply your descendants like the stars of heaven, and all this land that I have promised I will give to your descendants, and they shall inherit it forever.’ ”

Exodus 32:13

When people ask me how I’m doing, I’m not sure how detailed my answer should be. But the good news is that my health is good enough that I’m now circling back and doing the medical procedures that were scheduled for January, but got canceled because of the fire.

One such appointment was this last Thursday. After a year, I was able to get my glaucoma checked. (Though it’s described as “moderate,” I have never noticed having glaucoma, but I watch it because it’s a hereditary weakness for many Japanese-Americans.) The good news is that the tests did not show any change in my glaucoma or even my regular vision.

I was most interested in this visit, though, because my ophthalmologist moved into the grand new Doheny Eye Institute facility with the address of 150 N. Orange Grove Blvd. in Pasadena. Though the address says Orange Grove, the facility is accessed by turning onto a little stub of a street called Kensington Place, and that is the original location of my family church. The church that we know of as First Presbyterian Church, Altadena, moved to Lincoln Avenue when Kensington Place was condemned to make way for the 210 freeway. My family didn’t even realize there was still a Kensington Place, and there isn’t much left.

The story of the old Pasadena Union Church is a glimpse into the racial history of Pasadena. In Pasadena, there were two main districts that were redlined, D6 and D9. In my childhood, most of the Black, Japanese, and Mexican residents of Pasadena lived in D6, near John Muir High School. But in earlier days, when my uncle played high school football with Jackie Robinson, many of our ancestors lived in D9, which starts at Orange Grove just north of what is now the Norton Simon Museum. It follows a very thin strip south, then widens around Del Mar Blvd. and includes the blocks along the western side of Fair Oaks down to Huntington Hospital. According to the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation (a New Deal federal agency founded in 1935 to shore up home ownership after the Depression that also established the redlining maps), D6’s demographics were about 10% “foreign,” Mexican and Japanese (though many were born in the US) and 40% “Negro.” In D9, the residents were 15% Mexican and Japanese and 40% Black. However, these neighborhoods are adjacent to some of the wealthiest areas; my family church was a few blocks from the Gamble House. They were so close to wealth, but distant enough that much of D9 became the path of the 710 stub (my ancestors obviously didn’t have the political clout of the people of South Pasadena.)

If you read about Jackie Robinson’s childhood, he mentions growing up with Black, Japanese, and Mexican kids. The old-timers at my family church knew that while the Japanese kids went to Pasadena Union Church, the Robinson family was active at Scott Methodist Church, which is around the corner from the Gamble House—but they all went to school together. (I think Scott was saved from demolition because they are right on Orange Grove Blvd., which of course was preserved from the freeway.)

Why do I go into this detail? Partly because we have been looking at the connection between land and community strength . . . Partly because as I get older and look towards retirement, I wonder how we will retain the stories of our history . . . Partly because we need to know that there is great richness in

the history of our people that should empower and challenge us as we face difficult times today. For instance, as we discuss the importance of affordable housing and access to financial resources, I know that my family church started as housing for Japanese migrant workers and students, was used as a temporary shelter for Japanese families returning from the World War II camps, and that the church started its own savings and loan for their members because the commercial banks would not give them mortgages. These actions on behalf of Christians from decades ago played a key role in the recovery and development of my people, whom the US government described as “enemy alien” and a “subversive race” who “infiltrated” neighborhoods to turn them into slums.

Who are now being described in these degrading ways today? And what are we church folk doing about it? And how will this impact our—and their—descendants?

There is a phrase oft-used in the Japanese-American community, kodomo no tame ni—“for the sake of the children.” As we consider the generations that came before us, the ancestors of faith who acted bravely for the sake of God’s children, may we be open to God’s leading, for the sake of God’s children in our presence today.

And may we be inspired and emboldened by the loving grace of Christ in our lives.

Blessings,

Wendy

hey shall not build and another inhabit;
they shall not plant and another eat,
for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be,
and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.

Isaiah 65:22

Kristen Gaydos from the national church staff accompanied Jihyun Oh and Jermaine Ross-Allam last weekend, as we celebrated the return of Siban’gna to the Gabrieleno-Tongva people. Kristen came to document the event, and she shared the article from the Presbyterian News Service and a shared folder of her great photos. So I want to share some last thoughts and images of this moment in history.

The Presbyterian News Service article was based on the eloquent press release written by Mona Morales Recalde. There were so many people who contributed to this action, but Mona was the engine that drove it home. Like most Indigenous Christians I know, and many Christians whose roots lay outside of Western Europe, Mona holds within her two sometimes competing identities; in Mona’s case, that of Indigenous leader (enrolled member of the Gabrieleno Tongva San Gabriel Band of Mission Indians and elected Commissioner of the Los Angeles City/County Native American Indian Commission) and Christian presbyter (ruling elder member of La Verne Heights Presbyterian Church and member of this presbytery’s Justice Peacemaking and Mission Committee). As committed as she is to love and justice for her tribe, it was Mona who first pushed me to get to know the Clergy Community Coalition, the ecumenical group in Pasadena that has since become one of the most significant driving forces for the rebuilding of Altadena, and through her connection with the CCC we learned of the immigrant families who were living in the severely damaged apartment building in Altadena, allowing us to provide support for them. I love this photo that shows several generations of faith and tradition and joy for the Tongva people.

I am thankful for the presence of Jihyun Oh and Jermaine Ross-Allam. Both of them were truly moved by the event, and another national staff person told me later how back in Louisville (the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s headquarters), they shared the news of San Gabriel Presbytery’s good work. Jihyun had to walk a difficult line in her sermon, because while she accepted my suggestion of Isaiah 65:17-25 for the Scripture lesson, she was painfully aware that this text has been used to justify Israel’s human rights abuses against the Palestinian people. Personally I am saddened by this, because the concept of people being able to use the products of their labor is used in multiple ways throughout the Hebrew Bible to describe justice. In fact, while God pointed out to the people of Israel that they are being given “a land with fine, large cities that you did not build,” (Deut. 6:10b) that gift can be taken from them, as in Amos 5:11:

because you trample on the poor
and take from them levies of grain, you have built houses of hewn stone,
but you shall not live in them; you have planted pleasant vineyards,
but you shall not drink their wine.

Isaiah 65 uses this concept to demonstrate what I consider true shalom—the completion of God’s plan for justice and restoration, a plan not for leisure and luxury, but for the sovereignty of work.

As I read some of the articles about the event, they all seem to repeat an aside I made, that La Casa de San Gabriel was established to serve primarily the Latino community. While this is true, the lack of context makes it sound like the land was taken from one oppressed people to give to another. For that reason, I am most grateful for Elder Al Juarez of Pasadena Presbyterian Church, who spoke so movingly last November as a proud Latino alum of another house of neighborly service. He spoke of his gratitude for growing up with this Presbyterian ministry, and how to this day he is Presbyterian, but that there are now Latino churches in San Gabriel Presbytery, and it is time for another people to rise up at this site. And I

was thrilled with the enthusiastic presence of the Lizárraga family at the celebration, with Michael speaking so beautifully about his grandparents Rev. César and Angelita and their ministry, and his family’s unequivocal happiness that the land has now been returned to the Tongva people. This picture includes the family and Denise Menchaca, Mayor of San Gabriel and Chair of La Casa’s Board of Directors; her unwavering support made the transition all the more joyous. They all embody the true sense of stewardship, as they and the Tongva people see the gift of Creation not as something to be hoarded and controlled, but to be cared for and utilized and shared as together they live and serve God.

Last but certainly not least, I want to share the pictures of the most joyous of administrative commissions: Moderator N’Yisrela Watts-Afriyie, Amy Mendez, Mona Morales Recalde, Patrick Perry, and Dave Tomlinson. N’Yisrela shared that the AC represents the “mosaic of Godly diversity” that San Gabriel Presbytery seeks to be, not only in culture but in gifts and expertise that enabled them to accomplish the many tasks required for the smooth transfer. Dave is holding up the declaration that was created thanks to the calligraphy skills of Rebecca Prichard.

We are living in terrible times. May we not forget the moments of light, and hope, and justice that God offers to and through us. May we continue to strive  to be that light, and hope, and justice for others.

Blessings,

Wendy

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
   whose mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness;
   grande es tu fidelidad.

Lamentations 3:22-23
Lamentaciones 3:23b

This last Saturday was a high point in the life of San Gabriel Presbytery. I may be bold in saying that, but the sentiment was shared by the many Presbyterians, local and national, who attended the celebration of the return of Siban’gna to the Gabrieleno-Tongva people. It was an emotional time as we honored the long history of love and shared history we have experienced on this site, including the almost 80 years of service of La Casa de San Gabriel Community Center, started by the Lizárraga family, long nurtured by members of the Tongva tribe and San Gabriel Presbytery, and now the transition to a new kind of community center, where all of us will learn more about the Gabrieleno- Tongva people, their history and culture, and their vision and wisdom for the care of Creation and the larger community. It was a joyous time, and an opportunity to demonstrate to the whole Presbyterian Church and the world that it is possible to take bold steps towards God’s justice and peace.

One of our pastors said that the moment that touched her the most was after the exchange of gifts and prayer of the transfer, and one of the leaders of the tribe said “I have to say, this is a miracle.” He then led the tribe and all participants in the burning of sage, and that’s when I teared up, knowing that now, the tribe can meet and continue their traditions without having to ask someone else’s permission, because they now have a place of their own.

Throughout the morning, I thought of the many seeds that have been planted in years and generations past, in situations that only God could have fashioned into the path that led to Saturday’s celebration. I thought a lot about César and Angelita Lizárraga and Tony Rodriguez, Presbyterian pastors who served the Latino community in the San Gabriel area, with worship and tangible assistance over half a century ago. I smiled at the ways Tongva members found welcome and safe community in the Presbyterian Church, at La Casa and at La Verne Heights Presbyterian Church. La Verne Heights has

not been a church that seeks to make big declarations or brag about their progressivism—I’d guess that many of them would not appreciate being called “progressive”—but their quiet welcome and respect for the Morales families allowed them to maintain their Christian faith while they grew as strong and amazing advocates for Indigenous people. This is a rare thing, as many Native Americans have not been able to reconcile the Christian faith with the atrocities done against them, supposedly in the name of Jesus Christ. When I saw Deborah Owens, I told the national staff people how Deborah’s leadership as Presbytery Moderator in 2021, and the impact of COVID and the murder of George Floyd, led our presbytery to start a few small groups, including the study of reparations, led by N’Yisrela Watts-Afriyie, and though the original intent was to look at reconciliation with the Black community (a lens through which we seek to strive for affordable housing), the study helped us understand better the idea of the repair of historical harms done against Native Americans as well.

And I thought how this came about as a response to La Casa Community Center closing—but rather than see closure as a failure or ending of their legacy, the Lizárraga family came with great passion to bless and thank God for this next chapter of life and service with the return to the tribe. On a personal note, I think of the “-isms” that pushed me to start my ministry in Hawai‘i, where my leadership potential was recognized, and where I learned so much about the work towards justice for Native peoples. I can see direct lines through all these events and many more that God put in place to lead us to this historic event. Great is the faithfulness of God.

Of course, not everything is happy and easy, even in our Presbytery, even this weekend. On Sunday morning I went to worship with Iglesia de la Comunidad. Last week was Roberto Ramírez’ last Sunday as their pastor, and last month the Session was notified that Avance Charter School, which has been using a significant part of the church’s campus and contributed heavily to the maintenance of this very large and aging facility, was closing down on almost no notice, a victim of financial issues among former leaders and the federal government’s drastic cuts in education funding. So the congregation now faces an immediate future with no pastor and a severe shortfall in the ability to pay a new pastor.

I went into the large sanctuary and joined the small group who came to worship. (On a side note, I had one of those lovely LA moments—as I walked up the aisle, an older Latina lady started speaking to me in Spanish, gesturing towards my jacket. I nodded and smiled, not knowing what she was saying, but it became clear she was asking a specific question about my jacket. I mumbled a couple of words in English and she stopped and said “You speak English?” When I nodded, she then repeated her question and carried on the conversation in perfect English! Glad I fit in so well!)

For this Sunday, I was prepared to grieve with the congregation, and to take the blows that Presbytery folk often get from frustrated congregations who don’t know who else to blame for their troubles.

Instead, I was warmly greeted by the members I know there, and one of the elders, who is the worship leader, started singing. One lovely new song was “Tu Fidelidad” by Marcos Witt. A line from the song that was repeated throughout the service was “grande es tu fidelidad,” which in English we all know as “great is your faithfulness.”

At times, the elder would not sing in order to hear this small congregation, who sang with full, confident voices, “grande es tu fidelidad.” That’s when my own despair over the struggles ahead for this congregation turned into the wild thought, could this be the next place God blesses San Gabriel Presbytery with another miracle? I wondered if, perhaps years from now, the people of Iglesia de la Comunidad could say what the Tongva leader said on Saturday—that they have seen a milagro (miracle)?

Even before Saturday, I have witnessed more miracles in the life of San Gabriel Presbytery than I’ve ever seen in my life. While we cannot take God’s miracles for granted, and certainly we cannot order up a miracle with the ease with which we order food for delivery, God may continue to do amazing, improbable things in this presbytery in the future. May we be open to the possibility, and keen to see God’s miraculous work in our midst.

Thanks be to God!

Wendy